And The Curse of Sisyphus
by Youth of Australia
Summary: After "Not Broke Parents", Caroline is running on empty and needs a shoulder to cry on.


_1:47._

With another gentle spasm, the minute hand on the black and gold clock crept towards the hour before sagging with exhaustion in its new position. Earl's gaze had rested on the clock at some point and he'd somehow managed to lose track of time. And when you lose track of time clock-watching then it is not a good sign.

The diner was almost deserted anyway. It had been a slow night, with barely thirty seven customers since he'd arrived for work many, many hours previously. One of them had bought his CD, which was mighty decent of anyone after having parted with hard-earned cash for food even Oleg considered unappetising. No, it hadn't been a bad night. But it hadn't been a good one either. Just slow. Not worth mentioning.

The septugenarian shifted back into his position staring at the clock. He'd gotten comfortable and there was no point fighting it without a good reason.

And right in front of him was a good reason.

Caroline was doing another round of the booths, quite pointlessly. The tables had been polished to the level both staff and customers stopped giving a damn the other side of midnight. The condiments and ketchups had been re-stocked. There was literally nothing for the skinny blonde girl to do, but she did it anyway without a word. Or a smile.

Earl wasn't sure to be worried or just grateful for small mercies.

Still, ever since the Oversexed French Adulterer Pastry School for Those With More Money Than They Deserved had shut, Caroline and Max had been at something of a loose end given they worked two jobs during the graveyard shifts. Not that the spare time, less stress and more sleep seemed to have improved their moods.

Ten minutes to two. He could put up with Caroline for ten minutes, easy.

"I swear Caroline," he croaked thoughtfully, "if you go through the motions one more time then you have got to qualify for some performance art grant."

Caroline glanced at him as though she was deciding if she should concentrate on understanding what he said or focus on remembering who he was. "Sorry, Earl," she said, her voice flat and dull. "Guess it's a bit harder to get back into the old routine than I thought." She looked around the diner with distaste. "This is my old routine. What I'm good at. Oh, my careers advisors would be taking fatal overdoses to know that."

"Damn careers advisors never know how to pace themselves," Earl agreed. "I remember my one told me I was a useless, drug-addicted waste of his time. At least I think that's what he said. All that morphine he was taking made it hard to get what he was saying."

Caroline nodded. "You ever heard of Sisyphus, Earl?"

"Sissy-fuss? He some kind of gay pride entertainer for kid's parties?"

Caroline didn't smile. "Sisyphus had to do one thing. Push a boulder to the top of the hill. He worked hard and sweated and swore and did everything to get that stupid rock to the top of the hill. Except, as soon as he did, it would roll back to the bottom of the hill and he'd have to start all over again. Over and over again."

"And he didn't start to notice a pattern after the third time?"

"He was in Hell, Earl. That was his punishment. He had to spend eternity constantly reaching the top just to go straight back down again. He thought he was so clever, and that was why he suffered. No matter what he tried, how different he went, he always failed. But only when he thought he might have succeeded first."

Early rested his cheek against his closed fist, feeling his grey stubble scraping against the calloused skin of his hand. "I think I might be sensing some kind of subtext here," he observed sagely.

Caroline closed her eyes, not quick enough to hide the tears forming.

"Come on, girl, what's the problem?"

"I thought we were getting somewhere, Earl," she sobbed, her voice catching. "I'd got Max into pastry school. I was getting a job and we were making friends. And then somehow it all goes wrong and we lose everything. Like the first cupcake shop, and Andy and all the rest. We just end up back in this diner like it was all some strange dream."

"Things'll pick up," Earl advised. "Take it from someone who picks things up way too often. That reminds me, I really _should_ finish those antibiotics..."

"Oh yeah," said Caroline, her eyes open and a strange bitterness in her voice. "Things'll pick up. We'll win the lottery or something, and the cupcake fund ticks over and we'll make it big and meet people and then things will go wrong and we'll roll back down the hill, with nothing to show for it. That's twice now, and third strike you're out."

Earl frowned. He didn't think Caroline was capable of despairing.

"You sure you're Caroline Channing? Cause you white folk all look the same to me and you sure as hell aren't acting like her."

The blonde blinked away her tears. "It was me, Earl."

"What was?"

"Both times!"

"And I refer you to my first question."

Still six minutes to go? This was going to be torture.

Caroline swallowed. "It went wrong because of me, Earl. Both times. I couldn't save the cupcake shop from closing and then Nicolaus closed the pastry school because of me - even his marriage ended because of me, and that was what I was trying to avoid."

Earl sighed. "Girl, listen to the voice of experience. You're going to have plenty of things in your life you're going to hate yourself for. Don't add to the list if you don't have to." He reached out and took her hand. "And this doesn't need to be on the list."

"I'm cursed, Earl," she said quietly. "I look back and it's like a list of landmines going off. My dad, Andy, Nicolas, Deke, Chestnut... I ruin everything."

"Not everything," Earl said, glancing at the clock which now had definitely stopped. "Your little shop window is doing pretty well. Roland groupies every other week and frosty fries are keeping the roof over your heads. Your horse has a cat to play with. And, Caroline, let people take responsibility for their own actions. Cassanova ruined his own marriage and took out the pasty school. Candy Andy doesn't blame you for anything. And Deke, well, I'm not touching that one sober. But it ain't down to you."

"What if..." Caroline began, then in a shaking voice went on, "what if I _deserve_ this?"

Earl blinked. "Well, then you're getting everything you deserve, lucky you. I've been waiting the best part of eighty years to get what I deserve and between you and me, I'm starting to think I've been stood up." He looked significantly at the clock which insisted that two o'clock was not getting any closer.

"I killed Max."

The old man's attention was fully tuned onto Caroline. "You did what?" he asked, each syllable as sharp as broken glass.

"The night we cleaned out the back room," Caroline said. Tears were streaming down her face, but her voice was numb. "We got into an argument, and there was all that water and crappy electrics. She died, Earl. I did CPR and brought her back."

"She never told me," Earl said quietly.

"I got her killed, Earl. Me. That night, Max Black could have died and stayed dead. And then bad things happen to me. Isn't that fair?"

"You saved her," Earl insisted. "She's walking around today, putting the fear of god into the people asking about MSG, because of you. Caroline, that's the greatest thing you can do. A cupcake business, a pastry school... who cares if they go under? But you kept Max in this world. And now I, for myself, will never think you deserve this."

"Max doesn't talk about it," Caroline said, briskly and efficiently wiping her eyes. "Just another whacky thing, her being electrocuted. Hey, no sweat. But how much more, Earl? How many more times can I make things go wrong before she gives up on me?"

"I think killing her would be a deal-breaker," Earl grinned. "Trust an old man, if they still love you after fatally electrocuting them..."

"And then stopping them from becoming a chef? And forcing a wedge between the man she loves and his family, forcing her to give up altogether?" Caroline demanded, her grief turning to anger. "I've done that to her! And she's all I've got!"

Earl pulled a hurt expression. "Don't forget me!"

"Forget you?" Caroline sneered. No... yes, she _definitely_ sneered. Earl had never seen the cheerful leggy waitress ever do that. "How could I forget all of you? All the help you've given us. Oh, wait. Not us._ Max._ If this was just me, none of you would have lifted a finger." Her fury ebbed. "I would do anything for her, too. I'd scrub floors and sell my clothes and go hungry for her. She deserves it. But do I?"

Earl's face was emotionless. "Of course you do."

"When Max started that course, we bent over backwards to help her. But no one cared about me, working day and night to pay for it. It was just expected. And hey, asking for a pencil case was just too much!"

Earl folded his arms. "Caroline, I don't know about Sisyphus or any other classical Greek mythological kings," he told her dryly. "But I have this question, I want you to answer: what do you get the girl who has everything?"

Caroline looked at him like he was crazy. "You think I have everything?"

"You got Max Black," Earl replied. "If that ain't close to everything, what is? You think any of us can find a book bag or a pencil case to rival that? Is there anything you'd rather have than Max?"

Caroline was quiet. "No," she said in a soft voice, but without any hesitation.

"And if you're smart enough to work out a curse, you think Max _isn't?_"

"No."

"So, either you don't have a curse on you, or you do and Max plain doesn't care."

"Guess not."

"I tell you this, if I had to roll a boulder up a hill every day I'd much rather do it with Max than on my own," Earl went on. "Even if it did roll down each time."

"True."

"And given how we all love Max so much, you think any of us would let a cursed blonde landmine like you anywhere near her?" Earl asked. "Caroline, just coz we haven't rushed out to help you so far don't mean we never will. And just coz things have gone bad don't mean it won't get better. And you're not even three years into this yet."

Caroline smiled at him. "You're right, Earl."

"Hell I am. Caroline, you were on the edge of turning into a living country and western song! The music of pain! Now, you still think you're an unlovable cursed wretch?" he asked, watching her. She'd been bright and cheerful and determined for what appeared to be twenty four hours a day, seven days a week all year round. Maybe she was finally running on empty.

Caroline hadn't answered.

"Because you know if you do then you'll be contradicting both my expert opinion _and_ Max Black herself. You really want to be doing that?"

Caroline smiled again, and this time the smile reached her eyes. She shook her head.

"Girl, that's the smartest thing you've said all night. And, yes, you didn't actually say anything. Take a hint!" He pulled a mock reproving tone.

"Thanks, Earl," she said, and wrapped her arms around him in a delicate hug.

"Yeah, yeah, get back in the kitchen, woman," he laughed, untangling himself. "I don't want Max getting jealous."

"Oh, too late for that," came the wry voice from the counter.

Caroline spun around, hand going to her mouth in surprise. Max was emerging from the kitchen, wearing her black top for the cupcake shop. "I go to all the trouble to get the window ready for business instead of liquidizing my assets in a cheap bottle of vodka and now you're honing in on my man Earl?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

"I just needed a pep talk," Caroline replied.

"Yeah, you need pep talks like Michelle Obama needs spray tan. Come on."

"You've had better retorts than that."

"Like I'm gonna waste the good ones on you. I'm saving them for special occasions."

"Along with that cheap bottle of vodka?"

"Hey, that goes without saying."

"Max, what would you get someone who has everything?"

"Duh! Another everything, of course..."

Earl watched the pair of them go, all-but-hand-in-hand, out the back into their cupcake shop and the old man felt happier than he had at the start of the night. The world was always slightly easier to bare when his girls were happy. The stars were brighter, the air sweeter, the people nicer...

Earl swore loudly as he spotted the clock.

_2:13._


End file.
